Their Secret
by Ghostwriter
Summary: After the birth of little Ricky, the Mertzes deal with a painful secret.


THEIR SECRET

AUTHOR'S NOTE/DISCLAIMER

Takes place right after "Lucy Goes To The Hospital in Season 2. I know that a lot of the interactions for Fred and Ethel were because William Frawley and Vivian Vance didn't get along but I wanted to try a softer side to the couple. And if they seem out of character, I apologize. I tried to keep them both in character while keeping in mind the social norms of a couple of their generation. I Love Lucy belongs to Desilu Productions. I own nothing.

Ethel sighed as she and Fred walked back into their apartment. _What a day_, she thought to herself. Lucy had gone into labor and everything had completely fallen apart. _How could I have panicked like that?_ _What if we hadn't gotten her to the hospital in time?_ she chided herself. If her actions had led to her best friend losing little Ricky, she never would've forgiven yourself.

"Ethel, you all right?" Fred asked. _She's been so quiet since we left the hospital. Hope she's okay_, he worried. He hadn't seen her quiet like this in a long time. Years, in fact. Not since…no! He couldn't let his mind go there. It hurt too much. It was like it had just happened yesterday even though it had been years. But Ethel had never brought it up, and **he** certainly wouldn't. Though he was gruff and abrupt, he wasn't heartless.

"Yeah, I'm all right, Fred. Just tired. Long day," Ethel replied.

"Sure was. Exciting too," he agreed. _A little baby boy. Boy, Ricky sure was proud_, he thought to himself. And why not? Boys could carry on the family name. But a little girl would be the apple of a father's eye. A little girl. What would-no! He had to squash that thought. It was something that would never be, so there was no use in dwelling on it.

"Yeah," she stated, managing a smile, though it didn't really reach her eyes. "I'm tired so I'm going to go on up to bed. Feel free to stay up and watch t.v. if you want," she continued. _Of course he'd forget. It's been years_, she moped. But that was healthy, right? It had been **years** since it had happened and her husband was caught up in the excitement of being a godfather. Not that being a godmother to little Ricky wasn't exciting because it **was**, but…it just brought some old stuff back up. _Okay, now I __**know**__ something's wrong_, the man thought to himself. No matter what, Ethel **hated** sleeping alone. She was a cuddler, not that either one of them would admit it.

"Ethel," Fred said.

"Good night," she told him and then went to their bedroom, where she started to disrobe, her hands trembling. _I wish…._she started to think and then pushed the thought away as she removed her dress and put on a night gown. Then she removed her necklace and earrings, putting them back into their spots in her jewelry box. She inhaled sharply, trying to swallow the lump that had appeared in her throat. She let out a shaky breath as placed her hands on the dresser, laying her palms flat. _Push down the pain. Push it away_, she coached herself. She could do it. She had done it before over the years and she needed to do it again. However, a wetness reached her lids and she let out a choked gasp as she felt the tears slide down her cheeks. She couldn't-she couldn't do this. She couldn't breathe! She couldn't breathe! With another gasp, she slid to the floor, landing on her knees as the sobs wracked her body. She couldn't do this. She couldn't breathe! Feeling her husband's arms start to wrap around her body, she pulled away.

"No! Don't!" she screamed.

"Ethel," he said quietly, his voice breaking.

"How can you want to touch me!? I failed you! I failed you as a wife! I'm damaged!" she screamed again, the declaration ending in a wail.

"No you didn't!" He pulled her close and held her as he sat down on the floor. "You didn't fail me, Ethel. You hear me? You **didn't**." _I can't believe she thinks she failed me_, he mused. Had he been giving her that impression? Had he made her think that he didn't desire her over the years?

"I never gave you children. I tried and tried and I just…I couldn't. And then….I lost her! I lost Abigail!" she sobbed, sagging against his chest. Abigail. Her daughter. **Their** daughter. The name that they hadn't spoken in years.

"That was **not** your fault," he told her, his voice gruff and thick with emotion. _Oh damn. She's been thinking about her today too_, he realized. Why hadn't he been there for her? Had he gotten so caught up in the excitement of little Ricky's birth that he had ignored her? How could he have hurt her like that? "I'm sorry, Ethel. I should've realized that today would be hard for you. The memories…" Ethel sobbed.

"We almost had a daughter. We could've had a daughter," she choked out.

"I know, honey. I know," he responded, his voice just as tight as his wife's. "I was thinking about her today too." At this, Ethel looked up at him.

"You **were**?" she asked softly.

"Yes. It's part of the reason I panicked when Lucy said it was time to go."

"Me too. I was…afraid that if…we didn't get her to the hospital in time-"

"We would lose the baby."  
"Yes."

"Like we lost Abigail."

"Yes."

"Ethel, I'm so sorry. If I had just driven faster-" His voice trailed off as she shook her head.

"No. No, Fred. I never blamed you. Never."

"Why? It was **my** fault. I didn't wake up right away when you called me."

"Freddy, no. I never would've made it without you. My big, strong, Fred." She gave him a watery smile.

"I know I don't say it very often, but I love you, Ethel. So much."

"And I love **you**." Ethel sniffled again and leaned against Fred who tightened his grip around her, tears streaming down both of their faces for the life they had almost had.

THE END


End file.
